


MVP

by vivilove



Series: Dialogue/Tumblr Prompts [26]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Cheerleaders, Crushes, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: He can hear the fans out there, stomping on the bleachers and shouting for their Wolves. It’s usually such a rush but it doesn’t wind him up like usual tonight.The coach is red in the face, yelling out his last-minute pep talk. Grenn’s beside him, thrumming with excitement over the upcoming 60 minutes of possible glory, potential agony and certain violence. He bumps shoulders with him but Jon is barely conscious of it.Right now, he’s drowning in blue eyes and a smile thatmightbe just for him.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Dialogue/Tumblr Prompts [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501898
Comments: 32
Kudos: 120





	MVP

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riahchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riahchan/gifts).



> For riahchan's dialogue prompt-"Hurry up! Let's Go! Let's Go!"
> 
> Yeah, it's Super Bowl Sunday so...

“Hurry up! Let’s, go, let’s go!”

There’s always some idiot shouting that. A few times in the past, it’s probably been him. But they’re packed in this little tunnel under the stadium like sardines while feeling like young bulls eager to charge the gate. It’s a wonder no one winds up hurt.

He can hear the fans out there, stomping on the bleachers and shouting for their Wolves. It’s usually such a rush but it doesn’t wind him up like usual tonight.

The coach is red in the face, yelling out his last-minute pep talk. Grenn’s beside him, thrumming with excitement over the upcoming 60 minutes of possible glory, potential agony and certain violence. He bumps shoulders with him but Jon is barely conscious of it.

Right now, he’s drowning in blue eyes and a smile that _might_ be just for him.

She’s shaking her pom-poms, her auburn hair up in a ponytail and pressed up against the wall where the cheerleaders all stand before making the dash out onto the field right ahead of the team.

She’s cheering, ‘Go, Wolves! Go, go!’ but her eyes don’t leave his and they’ve exchanged more than one smile. Those smiles are making his belly swoop and flip and flop more than the knowledge that this game might land them in the playoffs ever has.

They’ve got Lit together 1st period and she sits right behind him because Mrs. Mordane loves things being in alphabetical order, including her students. He thinks he’s never been happier to have the last name Snow. (Except there’s the naughty thought that if he went by his old man’s last name instead he’d sit behind her and that might be even better.)

“LET’S GO!” someone yells and there’s a surge through the assembled bodies, pushing forward.

He watches anxiously as Sansa stumbles when someone knocks into her. He’ll fucking punch whoever’s shoving over there. But she rights herself and takes off running in that little skirt the girls wear and he’d better get his head on straight or he’s going to wind up stampeded by his teammates before the first snap.

* * *

  
“Hurry up! Let’s go, Snow!” Grenn shouts in his ear after the game is won.

“Just a sec!” he yells back.

She’s grinning at him from the sidelines as he walks over. He’s a sweaty, dirty mess from the game and he knows how his curls will be plastered to his head in places and sticking out in others from his helmet. Maybe he should do this later, after he’s showered and changed. But he might miss her if he waits and he doesn’t think he can wait until 1st period Lit on Monday morning.

He sees the other cheerleaders with their hands covering their mouths, whispering and giggling as he approaches. He sucks in a breath for courage as she walks away from them, her shoulders squared and her hands clasped behind her back but wearing a shyer smile now and starting to blush.

“Hey, Sansa.”

“Hey, Jon. Good game.”

“Thanks. Would you…you got any plans after the game?”

She shakes her head but it’s remorseful. “My dad’s here and he’s driving me home.”

“Oh, right,” he says, doing his best not to let disappointment sour his words. “I just thought maybe some time we could…”

“I’m free tomorrow night,” she interrupts with a hopeful lilt in her voice.

“Tomorrow, yeah. Does that…can I take you out?”

Her white teeth sink into her bottom lip and her blush deepens. “Yeah, you can. I’d have to be home by ten.”

“Ten, no problem.” He’ll pick her up at five then. He wants to spend as much time as possible with her.

A couple of minutes later, he rejoins his teammates and the celebration in the locker room. They’re all acting like they just won the Super Bowl. He can’t blame them. He’s got Sansa’s phone number and he’s taking her out tomorrow. He feels like the MVP tonight.


End file.
